Savages
by Sikecedes
Summary: Pot growers and best friends, Mike and Sam face off against the Mexican drug cartel who kidnapped their shared girlfriend Mercedes. Loosely based off the Movie Savages. collabo fic between authors.


**AN: Hey fanfic world. This will be a wild ride. It will be a bit different than either one of us has done before and a step away from our normal Samcedes fics. This is a Sikecedes version of the movie Savages, if you haven't seen it then warning there is some violence, drugs, and dark themes in this, oh and smut. We did a poll on Tumblr for the threesome you wanted to see and this is the one that won out. Sorry to keep those who have been waiting, RL got in the way. Thanks to our Beta Rose, for making our words readable. We hope you guys enjoy this fic, and please review and tell us if you love it, hate it, or want more of it.**

**Disclaimer: We do not own Glee or its characters. We don't own the movie Savages. **

**Chapter 1: ****Weed, Wargasms, and Warnings. **

_Just because I am telling you this story, doesn't mean that I am alive at the end of it. This all could be prerecorded, and I could be talking to you at the bottom of the ocean. Yea, it's that kind of a story. Cause things just got so out of control. It started here in paradise, Laguna Beach, where they say God parked himself on the seventh day, but they towed him on the eighth. The sun is always shining bright, and the waves are always deep and blue. The sand feels like heaven under your toes and the sea goes on for miles. The people are friendly, and the atmosphere is amazing. I couldn't picture myself living anywhere else._

_On top of the cliffs is Mike and Sam's hole in the wall by the sea. They paid for it in cash. It's one of the nicer places in the area. The view is breathtaking and the sounds of the ocean can be like music to ones ears. Not bad for two Laguna dudes, who are definitely not employable on Wall Street? _

**Mercedes POV. **

If I could spend most of my days like this for the rest of my life I would die a happy girl. I'm here watering the plants Mike left behind for me to tend to while he is away. Some of you are probably thinking what's so special about water plants, but it isn't the task that I am doing, it's the way I feel. Calm and serene, like almost all is right in the world. I say almost because Mike isn't here, but Sam keeps me from worrying so much. Worrying that Mike isn't coming home, or things might not go as planned. As I'm watering the last plant I look upstairs and see Sam cleaning his weapons again. A quiet ambiance around the house as the radio plays a soft tune in the background. I smile at him, and I can tell by the half smile he gives me that he's thinking too much.

Sam is a killer.

He served two tours, one in Iraq and the other in Afghanistan. He came back with a lot of cash, but no soul. He is still dealing with some issues he had since returning. Some people try therapy or calming techniques to sort through coming home from a war, but not Sam. Sam was always trying to fuck the war and the problems he had with it away. So I try to give him back some of the things that he has lost. It was something about him that I adored so much. He was lean with shaggy blonde locks when he left but came back with a buzz cut and about thirty pounds of muscles. I sometimes find myself getting lost in his green eyes. Sam is the love of my life. For those of you who are wondering I'm Mercedes. Mercedes Ophelia Jones. Yeah that's right Mercedes as in a foreign car, and Ophelia as in the basket case in Hamlet that committed suicide, so I mainly go by MJ. After putting the items I used to tend to Mike's plants away, I settle myself down I the couch and curl up with a good. Won't be long till Sam comes down and I'll be waiting.

**Sam's POV**

I didn't have plenty of choices out of high school. I wasn't book smart or a genius like Mercedes and Mike. The skills I had didn't quite fit into any regular job so I did what I thought was best for me. I joined the army. It seemed like the right choice at the time but after serving two tours, one in Iraq and the other in Afghanistan, I realized quickly it fucks with your head. Mike and MJ likes to think I came back without a soul. They always remind me that with them they see the real Sam but around others I come off as someone with no fucks to give. In my defense, that's just how I see life now. I'm a killer to most, but it doesn't matter whether I'm well liked or not, I leave that type of shit to Mike. I've been told that maybe therapy or some other type of treatment may help me with the shit swirling around in my head, fuck that. I don't need someone telling me how to solve my issues. It won't solve shit, besides I have my own way of dealing with things, with the use of my gun or the use of my dick.

The house always seemed kinda quiet with Mike gone. It wasn't that Mercedes and I didn't have much to talk about cause we did, but more like the both of us feeling like we would be leaving him out in some way. She was downstairs taking care of Mike's other babies, his plants, while I was upstairs cleaning my guns. It was something about the way my pistol felt in my hand. The coolness of the metal as it slides through my fingers does something to me. It excites and frightens me at the same time. The excitement comes from the feeling I get when I fire my gun for business or pleasure, but the frightened part, it comes from a whole different place. My dark side. My hands began to shake as the thoughts of war, murder, death, loud bangs of bombs and of shotguns firing, ringing in my ear. Sometimes the remembrance of the war can consume me if I let it. Which is why I hastily closed the case I keep my weapons in and make my way downstairs. The smile MJ greets me with helps a little. She can already tell by the look in my eyes exactly what I need.

"Come here lover," she says, already removing the panties she is wearing underneath her sundress.

She makes her way towards me lips press against mine in a soft kiss. My eyes close at the feel but all I see is the desert sun of Iraq and dust and smoke. Even as her hands, followed by her plump lips, began to trace the outline of some of my tattoos, I can't help but still see war.

"Mercy," I hiss, grabbing her shoulders.

"Tell me what you want, Sam," she cooed, "I'm all yours."

And she was. In that moment in time, all mine. Just what I needed, what the doctor ordered. I pick her up, her legs wrapping instantly around my waist as we kiss roughly. The heels of her feet working to slide my shorts down over my ass. There was no pleasantries or love making when it came to Mercedes and I. It wasn't that I didn't love her, cause I did. She was my girl, she constantly reminded me that I was the love of her life and she was so, so, so, important to me. But when I got like this, war on my mind, lovemaking didn't help. She knew this. Knew that I needed it rough, hot, fast, skin against skin. We landed on the sofa with a thud, as she licked the pulse point on my neck. Her hands scratching at my chest while I took a few seconds to sheath myself. It doesn't take long before I finish and I am fully buried inside her. If anyone was to ever tell me that Mercedes Ophelia Jones didn't have the best pussy in the world, I wouldn't hesitate to shoot them where they stand. She was tight, hot, and wet, just for me. We fit like one, and something about the way she would wrap her herself around me made it easier to cope with the bullshit in my head. Her dress survived maybe the first thirty seconds before I rip it completely from her body. Better it then her.

This was natural for us. We always started off trading kisses, nips, licks, some sweet and tender, but most desperate, tough, and harsh. I would keep a steady pace relishing in the feel of the tightest fit I have ever had, but only for a short while. Then it happens, the reason for why we are fucking like this in the first place. It always happens. The visions of my time away at war and the sounds that haunt my dreams sometimes come flashing back to me and I lose all my self-control. The kissing stops, at least on my part. The sweet caressing ceases, and I began to plow into her roughly. Her legs lift and I go deeper as her hands find my ass clawing at it. The only sounds that can be heard are those of our skin slapping together, and her moans of pleasure. She loves it when I'm rough with her, she tells me so. 'More Sam, fuck me so good,' often tumbles from her sexy lips. But half the time I don't hear it cause I'm focused. Focused on fucking the war and the baggage I brought back with me away.

"Fuck!" I grunt loudly as I feel her walls began to clamp around me. She's cumming and it's just the first of many as I grab ahold of the armrest and use it to fuck her more roughly than before. The sound of her hand slapping loudly on my back reminds me of a gunshot and I squeeze my eyes to try and concentrate on the sweet smile and amazing feel of being inside of her. Her fingers dance up and down my neck and head as I get lost inside of her. The couch moving slightly across the floor from our escapade.

"Cum for me baby," she coaxes me on. "Let it go Sam." My fingers tangle roughly in her brown locks and she cups my face making me look at her. Something about the look in her doe eyes gets me off every time.

"That's it," she moans, "Cum for MJ." So I do. Five fast and hard thrusts later and I feel myself cumming. It's like the world stops spinning for a minute and she and I are the only two people on earth. I feel her cum again, her walls clench me tight as we ride out our climaxes. The visions I previous had now replaced with the well fuck look on her face. The sounds of gun shots and bombs now vanished and all I hear is our pants and heartbeats. See, who needs therapy when I can get lost for free between the sweetest thighs in all of California.

**Mercedes POV**

There was nothing like that feeling you get after having amazing sex. Well, smoking weed, catching a high, after having amazing sex, is the best feeling. Sex with Sam is always good. He gives me the greatest orgasms a girl can ask for. The roughness of it all comes from him trying to fuck the war out. While Sam gives me plenty of mind blowing orgasms, he on the other hand, has what I like to call wargasms. We don't often cuddle after sex, it's not our thing. It isn't an intimacy issue just something we save for other times. Like always he goes to check on work, while I light a bong. Getting high after sex is like the aftershocks of an earthquake the effect is just the same but less dramatic. To me, the drugs extends the high of having been fucked by Sam. Just as finish taking a few hits and wrapping his shirt around me I hear a funny tone coming from the computer. I make my way upstairs to where Sam was sitting at the computer. I noticed a video loading as I embrace him from behind.

"What is it about work that you boys love so much?" I ask kissing his neck and shoulder. His arm comes up over mine as I finally see what was on the computer screen. The video began playing and there was heads and headless bodies lying all around. Someone was walking through with a mask on kicking the heads as if they were soccer balls on a field. The video was gruesome and sickening, it made my stomach turn.

"What is that?" I asked, half scared to learn the answer. "Is that Iraq?"

"No, Mexico," Sam answered not taking his eyes away from the screen. He didn't seem fazed by any of this, which isn't surprising since he experienced these types of things when he was on his tours. For me though it was almost too much to stomach.

The video ended and a messaged popped up.

**THESE GUYS WERE STUPID. BE SMARTER**

**DON'T MAKE US GO LIVE :(**

**WE NEED TO TALK.**

**TIME AND PLACE COMING...!**

I don't know why but that message and video didn't set right in my soul. It scared the hell out of me and immediately my mind went to Mike. I had to know if he was ok, the high I had quickly wore off and the great feeling I had was now replaced with fear, and worry.

"Where Mike?" I wondered, nearly in tears. "Isn't he still in Burma?"

"No, Africa someplace, saving Africans."

"He said he was going to be gone three weeks."

"That's changing now." Sam replied. He must have heard the concern in my voice because he stood and wrapped an arm around me. "Let's go get some air, babe." He said leading me onto the balcony. "Come on."

_I guess you figured out by now, if people are willing to go all Henry VIII on this, Sam and Mike grow some of the best weed in the world._

_Once on the balcony we both stare out at the open blue sea. It along with drugs helps to calm me, like sex does Sam. My head had a million and one thoughts swirling through it. I was terrified for Sam and Mike, and I didn't know exactly why yet._

**AN: What did you think? Leave us a review on your thoughts. Till next time.**


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